Netflix’s First Indian Comedy Special Needs No Translation For Vir Das

If you live in North America, your idea of Indian comedians tends toward stand-ups and actors who grew up here – the likes of Aziz Ansari, Mindy Kaling, Russell Peters, Jay Chandrasekhar, Kal Penn and Hari Kondabolu.

You may mistakenly answer with a fictional character portrayed by a white guy, like that of Apu from The Simpsons. (Hank Azaria, not from India.)

Comedy nerds may even recall the mockumentary Albert Brooks made in 2006, Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World, which found him traveling to India and Pakistan on behalf of the American government. But if Brooks had really been searching for Indian comedy back then, he certainly would’ve discovered Vir Das. Das became a Bollywood star a decade ago, and now with more than 5 million Twitter followers, he’s ready to make his proper American debut as part of a global Netflix stand-up special, Abroad Understanding.

Das eases the American audience into following him along by opening with a song, playing the guitar as he introduces himself:

“If you come down to India, I am a big deal. Check out this stadium that I just filled with my family. And now you’re feeling alienated ‘cause you don’t anticipate that I can make you laugh. You’ve never met an Indian bloke, you’ve never heard an Indian joke, so will you understand? Fucking relax. Let the camera track. ‘Cause as the camera goes across my back, you see my show has another half, eh. Now we’re in New York, City, in an American comedy club that’s kind of small and pretty. I’ve traveled far, ‘cause in your market, I’m just starting out. I haven’t made it. I have just downgraded to this American crowd.”

The next hour seamlessly cuts between a stadium of 11,000 cheering fans in New Delhi and the basement box aesthetics of about 200 expats and strangers in New York City’s SubCulture club. It doesn’t declare itself quite as boldly as Chris Rock’s Kill The Messenger triptych did for HBO in 2008, yet Abroad Perspective does show how proficiently Das can translate his observations for fans on either side of the globe.

After all, Das did study theater in Illinois and first try stand-up here before making it big back in Bollywood. While he tells the Delhi crowd that he wants “to show them that Indian comedy is more than just head-bobble jokes and funny accents,” he does have a few accents up his sleeves, including Australian and Bond villain, and roots out the expats in his New York City audience with a bit of Hindi, too. But he also warns the New Yorkers: “I’m not impersonating a hilarious relative.” His Indian accent only serves to provide “perspective, not a punch line.”

So Das can contrast Donald Trump with Narendra Modi, India’s prime minister, and note the similarities in cultures forcing citizens to choose sides. Das consoles us by suggesting Trump is our version of an arranged marriage, picked not by us but by our parents. For Indians, Das observes how silly it might look for a terrorist to hijack Air India; for us, Trump’s instillation of fear and hopelessness among many makes terrorism seem moot. For us, the idea of Brexit is nothing compared to the fall of the British Empire; for Indians and Pakistanis, the battle over Kashmir seems akin to two guys fighting over a woman without ever considering her desires.

And for everyone, Das suggests that our religious tolerance might improve if only the basic texts received updates as often as Apple apps alert us to upgrades.

And like any male comedian anywhere, Das has more than a few dick jokes. Which has him worried that might be all you remember his hour for – although he’s worried more about the plight of homosexuals in India, for whom their love remains a crime.

Das is luckier in love now than he once was. In recounting a breakup over Skype, which he then publicized to the world via Facebook, Das also reveals that he’s up with all the current trends and headlines that any stand-up comedian must know to stay ahead of audiences everywhere. So he can casually drop a Samsung exploding phone joke or a hashtag riff off of Black Lives Matter that plays no matter where you’re watching him.